


Harry Potter and the Rebirth of Magic

by dragonmhs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Raises Tom Riddle, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22190320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmhs/pseuds/dragonmhs
Summary: The world is dying and there is one last hope to prevent the death of Magic.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Newt Scamander, Tom Riddle/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 233





	Harry Potter and the Rebirth of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> This will be my very first Fan Fiction. Do not expect frequent updates, but please let me know your thoughts. I am not a fast writer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 1/22/2021: Needed to fix some dates and some typos. Some minor changes in the conversation with Death. No major changes. Yes this does mean I am working on this story. No it doesn't mean a chapter will be posted any time soon.

The icy cold wind bit at his ears and face. Harry Potter wished he had the power for a windbreak charm, but he barely had the energy to stand before the great altar. He stood in the barren hollow of the greatest magic circle his kind had ever built and felt the last faint trickles of magic flow through the weakening lay lines and into the runic array he had built over and around the circle. 

Arrayed between the standing stones of the inner circle were the very last of the truly magical beings of this world, grim faced and gaunt with the years of deprivation and loss. 4 witches, 5 wizards, a single squib and her last kneazle, a goblin, a centaur leaning heavily on a stave, a merman carefully propped against a stone, his tail useless out of his normal environment, a vela in her bird form, and a house elf. All of them were the last, the very last of those to whom magic was far more important than any of them had ever guessed. As they died, so died magic and the world around them. Nothing more would grow, and even the non-magical had found themselves barren and ill. 

There was nothing left here for any of them. Their only hope was this final ritual, this willing sacrifice of 13 magical beings, their lives given over to send one back far enough to save them all.

The power began to throb in time with their unified purpose building all around them, trembling as each of the 13 gave the last of their life force and magic over to the working. Tears tracked down Harry’s face as his greatest friend fell, her bushy hair once so full of life, now matted down with rain and mud, the light leaving her eyes. The energies around him rose and finally broke over him. Unimaginable pain. His eyes felt as though they would boil in his skull, his heart strained in his chest and finally exploded, and blackness took over his world. 

\------------------------------------

“Well that was stupid,” a voice out of the darkness observed. 

Harry groaned and tried to roll over onto his back, except there didn’t seem to be ground under him, in fact there didn’t seem to be much _him_ going on. He tried to open his eyes and could see only dimly through a haze of fog. He seemed to be floating, with no real up or down, just fog and faint lights far in the distance. He tried to look down at himself, but found there was nothing there. He felt the faint aftershocks of great agony, but nothing else. 

“Easy does it,” the voice returned, “you are currently bodiless and in my realm. That was quite the death! Backlash from a failed time immersion ritual, powered with the death of 14 magicals, and you got all of them to participate freely. That was something else.” The voice almost seemed to be gloating.

“What? Failed? Where am I? Who are you?” the questions seemed almost forced out of him. “What’s going on?”

Some of the mist began to form into an oddly familiar shape. A cloaked figure with skeletal hands resolved itself. “Do you not remember me, Master?”

“Death? But how? Why?” They had researched as best they could what it meant to be the Master of Death after the hollows started following him around, appearing in strange places throughout his life. He had finally taken to carrying them with him at all times because it was much easier than trying to explain why he suddenly had an invisibility cloak draped over one arm and why a wand would just appear in his back pocket. He did, in fact, almost blow off his own buttock once when he was startled by the wand’s sudden stabbing presence. It was like getting goosed by a stork. Even Hermione hadn’t been able to find much, other than a much stronger constitution and a certain resistance to various poisons.

“We’ve only met once before, and it was brief. That old man babbling at you about nonsense seems to have wiped the memory completely from your mind. Anyway, your ritual failed, your cohort has died, and you world with surely follow. What is it you would like to do next?”

“I . . . uh . . . I’m not sure? What are my options?” Harry really needed a moment to stop and think. He felt like he was thinking through molasses, and he certainly felt like he should at least be mildly upset that his last few friends had died and it didn’t accomplish anything. 

“As before you can choose to die, to go on to whatever that means, or you can go back to where you were. I will restore your body, but you will likely die shortly after from lack of magic. This time however, you have a new option. Magic certainly appreciated what you have tried to do for her. She has granted a boon. I can help you accomplish what you had tried to accomplish with your ritual and send you back in time. She has granted me some access to her powers to help smooth the way without creating problems or potential paradoxes.”

“So it would be like the ritual was supposed to accomplish, sending my spirit back to my younger body? Let me do it all over again?”

“I could do that, but I don’t think you will be able to do what you need to do. The problems that have led to the death of magic began long before you were even born. I think it would serve you better to back to the 1920’s. There will be a child born who could help you, if you first help him. You are especially suited to help him it seems.”

“But who . . . Riddle? Help _Riddle_?” 

“Mmhmm . . . he was as much a Child of Prophecy as you were, except instead of a bumbling headmaster to help him, he only had himself. Is it no wonder he passed through the dark and went right to evil? He felt the same weight of the world, but he could never overcome his origins to truly get the most out of the portents of his birth.”

"Portents of birth? I was the one born under a prophecy that between that monster and an old bumbling fool lost me my parents and caused me and the magical world great pain."

Death snorted. "That flimsy prophecy you were quoted hardly had any power behind it. If you had been able to ignore it, it wouldn't have even come true. I refer to a much older prophecy spoken by Pythia the Oracle of Delphi. She foretold the rebirth of Orpheus and Eurydice who's joining would bring balance to magic and strengthen the magically born. Those two souls have been reborn multiple times since her speaking but each time they were unable to rejoin each other through a combination of ill luck and active malice."

"I'm not sure I understand. I think you are referring to an old Greek myth of someone who lost their love to death or something? Didn't she die on her way to the altar?"

"Yes. Very tragic. They have been reborn in many ways and times as part of the promise that I made to Orpheus. He must trust Eurydice with his whole heart and they will be as one. Orpheus is slow to learn trust and unfortunately tends more towards only trusting himself." Death gave a rattling sigh. "In 1926 Orpheus was reborn as Tom Riddle. Eurydice was reborn a decade earlier as a witch who died during one of the last bombing runs of London in 1918. She was then reborn in 1924 as a muggleborn wizard who eventually was killed by his family after their first contact with wizard kind. Her next life was also a wizard, born to a fairly well to do merchant family who moved to the continent and lived a long and fruitful life never having met Riddle. It was unfortunate, but not the most tragic I've seen those two souls face."

"Are you trying to tell me that I'm the reborn soul of Eurydice?"

Death laughed. "No, my dear Master. You were her son. Even in his rage and pain and with hardly and soul left to speak of, Tom recognized her and asked her to stand aside. He did not wish to kill her to get to you. He just wanted to eliminate you and the threat you represented. It was Eurydice's love that defeated him that night. It is always her love that hurts him the most."

Harry felt something . . . something like truth, like pain, like hope stir in him. It was almost like the intellectual idea of his emotions without any sort of feedback from his body.

Perhaps this would be the road he would have to follow. 

"I see you have come to a decision. You will find that Magic has granted you some gifts and some help. You will have to discover them on your own."

Harry started to ask about the gifts, but suddenly those distant lights where swirling around him and getting closer and closer . . . and then nothing.


End file.
